
Class J5l3£&5 
Book, -U 6^W^ 
GopyrightN li_ — 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 

3k 




FORT MADISON 

I Never Left the Room. 



i What the Sam Hill.) 



What the Sam Hill 



BY 

W!B. F. CLEMENTS 




BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 

835 Broadway, New York 

BRANCH OFFICES: CHICAGO. WASHINGTON. BALTIMORE. 
ATLANTA, NORFOLK. FLORENCE ALA. 






Copyright, 191 1, 

By 

WIB. F. CLEMENTS. 



©CI.A283 



PREFACE. 

To my old friends Callister, Enyart and 
Bishop, I dedicate this book. May it help to 
while away an hour. In the fight between Puff 
and the Jew we sometimes wonder what would 
have happened to Puff had he actually got hurt. 
We make no pretentions to authorship. Many 
of the things mentioned happened in actual life. 
We launch the little boat. Hoist the sail and bid 
it Bon voyage. iWib. 



WHAT THE SAM HILL 



CHAPTER I 

Write a book? And why not. It always 
been my desire to write a book. When I was 
a boy in school I (and that was not last week) 
used to write short sketches, biographies of 
my schoolmates, picturing them as men of 
sixty and having lived a useful life, and all 
that. 

What, you write a book? You, over sixty 
years old. 

Yes, why not? All I lack is a name. 

Well, I'll swan ; what the sam hill ! 

There ye are. The very thing. That shall 
be the name — What the Sam Hill. Now you 
are foolin'. No, I am not. I am going to call 
it "What the Sam Hill." 

I might begin by saying that I am a son of 
poor but honest parents, who would have 
died childless if there had not been five of us 
children. But I won't say anything of the 
kind. I merely say I am here and pretty well 
tickled that such is the case. In fact, eves 

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since I have known anything I have never felt 
like I wanted to trade this world for any other 
one; however, when they get the wireless tel- 
egraphy going and we hear from some of the 
other places I may change my mind. 

I have always been of a roving disposition, 
which may account for the fact that I have 
never gathered much moss. Now, I don't ex- 
pect this book to have as many words in it 
as the one Noah Webster wrote, and I hardly 
think the spelling will be as good. If you 
should run across a word now and then you 
don't understand, just turn to Noah Web- 
ster's latest book, and if you don't find the 
meaning why, I'll lose faith in Noah, and I'd 
hate to do that, for Noah has always been a 
particular friend of mine, and I owe largely 
my knowledge and smartness to my close 
friendship with him. 

Noah was always more for explaining things 
than I was ; in fact, you will notice all through 
his book he stops to explain the meaning of 
his words, until you almost lose sight of the 
hero, the story; and the minor characters you 
have lost sight of altogether. The Mr. John- 
son of the story you can partly follow, but end 
men and those sitting along between you lose 
sight of. 

I've little doubt, however that Noah's book 
will outlast mine; I believe, though, that if 
Noah had not been called hence he would 
have been willing to have divided honors even 

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with me : There wasn't anything small about 
Noah. 

In some of my short sketches I spoke of, 
I once got a letter from an old schoolmate 
who had got one of them ; he wrote me it took 
him back to our old boyhood days. He shed 
tears over some of the things mentioned (es- 
pecially where I had taken a licking for some 
of his tricks and wouldn't blow on him), and 
laughed at some of the droll ones. Said he 
had never left his room from the time he 
commenced it until finished. This swelled me 
up some until I afterward learned he was, at 
the time, working for the State and resided in 
Ft. Madison. His letter was written before 
the crime of '73 ; and must not be confounded 
as to truthfulness with politicians of later 
days. He never explained just what particu- 
lar pull he had in getting a State position, and 
it has nothing particular to do with this book. 



[7] 



CHAPTER II 

In speaking of old boyhood days, the letter 
brought up an amusing incident in which his 
interest was about equal to mine. We usually 
did our swimming in Duck Creek, where, if 
any one made an extra hazardous dive, the 
greater part of his back was still out of water, 
but on this occasion or trip we went down on 
Wolf creek to swim, where the water was 
twenty-two inches deep by actual measurement. 
The swimming, however, was of small mo- 
ment. It was after coming out and putting on 
our shirts wrong side out (which caused no 
end of abbreviation to explain away after 
getting home), we started home across the 
creek bottom, and, as blind luck would have 
it, ran spang into Will Fletcher's watermelon 
patch. Here now our Sunday School train- 
ing bore down very hard, but by a kind of 
compromise between conscience and hunger 
we cut one open. We had figured a little like 
they do out in Leadville that possession was 
nine points, and we would chance it on the 
other point. We had gotten into the heart 
of the subject when I heard something whack 
together and on looking up saw it was my 
companion's knees. A far-away look of "meet 

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me when the moon goes down" was on his 
face; his hat had raised until it merely touched 
the bumps of cowardice and secretiveness, and 
his finger — not unlike a skeleton hand — was 
pointing to a man just stepping out from be- 
hind a tree. 

Now, my companion was somewhat ac- 
quainted with some of the peculiarities of 
Will, but I was not loaded down with such 
knowledge, and, furthermore, had never been 
intimate with him, so did not stay to get bet- 
ter acquainted, but went up the hollow 
through the timber. Even my new Barlow 
was left sticking bolt upright in the red bosom 
of our victim, to appear at a later date as evi- 
dence against me, as I, in an unguarded mo- 
ment, had carved my name: "W. I. B." on 
the handle — a practice I have always looked 
down on ever since. My companion, seeing 
that I was in a fair way to escape, put a bold 
face on the matter, and by the time Will 
reached him had got his knees working, but 
the squirrel rifle carried by Will made him 
think it not a bad idea to make friends with 
him, which he did by placing all the blame on 
me, and his story, along with the Barlow, 
made a clean case against me. 

^ I have never felt like falling on his neck 
since, and learning where he was employed 
when he wrote me about the story — the old 
story has ever rung in my ears : "The mills of 
the gods grind slowly, but exceedingly fine." 

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In mentioning boyhood days, so many 
things come back to us. I suppose my school 
days were about the same as other boys. I 
started in what was called the "old brick," 
about one-half mile from town. Boys came 
from quite a distance — it seemed quite a dis- 
tance — but in after years, after roaming over a 
country where no trees were in sight, where 
the prairie dog held full sway, and then look- 
ing back at the country surrounding the "old 
brick," I now know none of them came very 
far. In after years I was transferred to Pin 
Hook school up on the pike, and finally to the 
New Castle Seminary. Here our boyhood 
pranks began to be curtailed. One eye-sore to 
us was the study hour at night. The princi- 
pal, Rice by name, issued orders that no 
scholar should be on the street after seven 
o'clock in the evening without written per- 
mission. This was hard on the average boy. 
It made playing after night hazardous, but 
added enticement to it from the fact that it 
was forbidden. The principal was a very tall 
man, and fleet on foot, and was the last man 
to leave the street at night. It was our busi- 
ness to look out for Rice, as we called him to 
his back. We would change clothes with boys 
not in school. We would turn our coats wrong 
side out, cap with rim behind, and all kinds 
of disguises, but few of these duped the pro- 
fessor. A man with a guilty conscience is a 
coward, and few of us could stand and let him 

[10] 



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come up to us. We would start in with a 
good stock of bravado, but when he got close 
to us we would fail and turn to fly, this in- 
variably ending in our being caught, and pun- 
ishment in various forms quickly followed. 

I well remember in my own case I was the 
champion runner of our set and tried one night 
to match my speed with the professor. I had 
a hundred feet the start, but do the best I 
could I could not widen the breach. It was 
across streets, down alleys, through buildings, 
and everywhere I glanced back showed the old 
man holding his own. 

The bystanders shouted, "Git there!" 
"You'll make it!" "Hoe it down!" It soon 
became a certainty I was a gonner, but, by a 
superhuman effort, I rounded a corner a little 
in advance and turned down an alley where 
there was a lot of lumber piled upon some 
large timbers. It was but the work of a mo- 
ment to drop flat on the ground and roll un- 
der one of these piles. It must have been a 
minute that I never drew my breath, so quiet 
did I lay, but the night was chilly and a strong 
draught under where I lay soon began to tell. 
I would first listen from this side, then that, 
but could hear nothing. Then a cold chill 
would course down my back, but I must stick 
it out a little longer. He may be there. But 
I could stand it no longer ; it was move or 
freeze. I moved so slowly and quietly that 
I made no noise at all. I rolled out from 

[»] 



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under the pile, straightened up, when whack! 
came his hand down on my shoulder; and so 
strong was it that I thought he would pinch a 
piece out of it. 

"Ah, ah, Philander! I have you now!" (I 
had Philander's coat on.) He had made sure 
it was Philander. 

I says, "I guess not." This staggered him 
a moment only, for he struck a match, and by 
its flash recognized me. 

"You will apologize before the whole school 
in the morning, or be expelled." 

This I did, and I think to this day my par- 
ents never heard of it. I would advise all boys 
to make the best of their advantages in school 
and not follow in the footsteps of that age, 
and I expect the boys to follow the advice as 
close as I would have followed it then. 



I"! 




£ ^ 



CHAPTER III 

"Hello, Puff! How are ye?" 

"Oh, not first class." 

"What's the matter — the old boss found his 
strap?" 

"Yes, that's a part of it. I don't set down 
now in the presence of my betters." 

"Gee, is it as bad as that?" 

"Yes, ever since I quit school I " 

"Quit school? I didn't know you had quit." 

"Yes, my education is finished." 

Day after to-morrow will be two days since 
I quit." 

"Well, say, Puff, I don't like that. Who are 
we going to soak now in the bull pen? You 
and Danget and I furnished most of the 
amusement there." 

"I don't care; you will have to get along 
without me. 

I was a little lonesome at first, but now I 
have got used to it. The school days seem like 
a dream of long ago." 

"I don't care, it's going to be dull. How's 
old Nice?" 

"Oh, he's all right; had him out coon hunt- 
ing last night — only had to go back twice to 
help him over a log." 

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"He must be getting in his second puphood, 
sure. 

I can remember when it took some to go in 
front and look for coons, and some to follow 
behind to help Old Nice over the logs." 

"Yes, Danget, Jim, Oscar and I were down 
in Uncle Billy Lynn's sugar camp last night 
and had a good hunt." 

"I understand. I reckon you don't happen 
to know where old Dr. Cruse's old setting hen 
is this morning?" 

"What's that ! Setting hen ! Who's talking 
about setting hens?" 

"Well, I made a slight remark myself." 

"If the hen is missing, Hugh, I guess I 
wouldn't have to go far to find the cause. 
There wasn't any light in Genn's kitchen when 
I came back past there, and all the old folks 
gone, leaving Dave to keep house. I believe 
I'd lay low on the setting hen, anyhow, until 
old Doc says he's lost one." 

"I talked with Dudley this morning. He 
never said anything about losing a hen. I've 
known fellows to give themselves away be- 
fore now." 

"You think you're a little smart since you 
quit school, don't ye? Been reading Old 
Sleuth, ain't ye? Don't git out'n your lati- 
tude, Puff. I've known fellows to refuse to 
set down in the presence of their betters for 
worse cause than a boot strap." 

"Maybe you think you can do it?/' - 



mm m &am jdw 



"If you'll just step down in the alley, I'll 
show ye." 

"Hello, boys! What's the row?" 

"How are ye, Dick?" 

"Good morning-, W. I. B. What's the mat- 
ter with Puff?" 

"Oh, ever since he quit school he's been put- 
ting it on a little thick, and i was just invit- 
ing him down in the alley back of Kinard Bur- 
ns' stable to argue the case." 

"Oh, well, hold on! Old Kilgorc's in town; 
saw him come this morning, least said soonest 
mended, boys. 1 Been him whittling with an 
old liar lew that had a mighty familiar look. 
I tried to see the handle, but couldn't make 
it, but I'd lay low if i was you." 

"Lyman, come here. There ain't wood 
enough to get dinner." 

"Listen at that! JJoggonned if I aint' a no- 
tion to start to school again. A fellow didn't 
have to cut stove-wood there, anyhow." 

"Oh, go and cut your mother some wood; 
you ought to have cut enough Saturday to last 
all week." 

"How are ye, W. I. B. ? I passed your wood 
house Saturday night as I was going down to 
Tom Powers' store, and seen you cuttin' wood 
by a lantern." 

"Look here, Puff, I won't wait to take you 
down to the alley, if you don't watch out." 

"Hold on here, boys; J ain't going to have 
any fighting going on here, I tell ye, while 

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old Kilgore's in town. I was along when old 
Granny Fletcher's grapes disappeared, and I 
saw the same old basket with one handle off 
(that I ran off and left under the tree), right 
here in our store this morning with a lot of 
Squire Kilgore's eggs in it, and I tell ye things 
have got to be kept quiet while he's in town." 

"Look here, Puff, what did you quit school 
for, anyhow?" 

"Well, me and old Wess Killen couldn't 
agree. Now I used to get along with Bill Mc- 
Whorter, and Rose Miller, and all of them; 
but we didn't have to write letters and essays 
with them, but old Wess is a terror. You 
know I never cared much for grammar, any- 
how, and about all I knew about geography 
was the road from Blooming Grove to old Joe 
Hay's swimming hole on Duck creek, or old 
Levi Osborn's peach orchard. I could locate 
them with one eye shet, and I have been in 
Bob Wilson's orchard, too ; and I wasn't alone, 
either. You needn't look so skeered, I ain't 
blowing on any one to-day, Kilgore's in town. 
As I said before, Killen's a terror. It was 
essay or a lickin', and as I had had so many 
lickin's, I thought I would try an essay for a 
change." 

"Yea, W. I. B. and I was there and heard 
part of that essay, but we was a little startled 
at the windup of it, and would like to hear 
the rest of it." 

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"All right, but I guess I'll have to cut some 
wood first." 

"All right; W. I. B. and I will meet you 
down in the buggy shed, Dick. I kind o' hate 
to have Puff quit school." 

"So do I. I had got in practice in the bull 
pen, and could soak him every time. It will 
be hard on Danget, now." 

"Yes, it will; how's the squirrels now?" 

"Somebody let them out. Yes, clean gone. 
Got a cake to sell now. You don't think Lush 
Doughty had anything to do with it, do you?" 

"No, I guess not. All he thinks about now 
is the girls." 

"What, that little rip?" 

"Yes, he's little, but he is three years older 
than you and me, you know." 

"Do ye reckon we will like the girls in three 
years, Dick?" 

"I rather think not." 



[I7l 



CHAPTER IVJ 

"Well, fellows, I've got wood enough cut 
for night and morning, both. I thought while 
I was at it I'd cut a lot of it. Now, as for the 
essay, I spent considerable time on it, as I 
knew old Wess would not have no half-way- 
business. He said it was enough to test a 
man's religion to have such a fellow around, 
and as I had seen Uncle Billy breaking out a 
patch of new ground, the thought struck me 
that 'A Test of Religion* would be a good 
subject. 

"The test of a man's religion is to place 
him plowing in a stumpy piece of ground near 
the church, while quarterly meeting is going 
on, and give him a black and brindle pair of 
steers at the plow, who have been restless 
from birth and dull of comprehension, and an 
appetite that is 'unquenchable and fadeth not 
away/ These combination and the proximity 
of the church, and the nearness of the presid- 
ing elder, all holding him back from using lan- 
guage adequate to the occasion. Should he 
pass from one end of the field to the other 
with countenance serene, you must say the 
test is good. He stands eighty-five per cent., 
and instruct the secretary to so write. 
[18] 



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"Wkn you say why subject him to all this, 
when you should know that we are instructed 
from the start that you shall have time to 
erase the 'sweat from your brow/ but still la- 
bor for what you eat (the resolution of the 
American Federation of Labor to the con- 
trary, notwithstanding). You see, Dick, I 
thought it well enough to sling in a few big 
words (old Wess is great on big words), and 
his patch of ground, as to stones, resembles a 
farm in Maine (where you have to buy whis- 
key by the barrel, and that measured in an 
old musket barrel), or an abandoned Hoosier 
farm of blackberry bushes, compared with this 
of his, sinks out of sight, and the thought goes 
spinning up his backbone as each brier swings 
back across his bare ankles (for understand 
this test was made before wool was placed on 
the free list, and the price of cosmoline and 
arnica salve had advanced), and you ask him 
why these things are, and he tells you, 'to 
raise corn to winter these pesky steers, so I 
can plow up this patch next year to raise more 
corn to winter these steers on/ and you leave 
him extending and extending and extending 
until you imagine Gabriel's horn cuts in and 
stops it all, as no Union Labor or People's 
Party ever stopped anything, and this relic of 
former grandeur or promise sinks from sight 
as thousands have before him, and when Old 
y/ess " 

[19] 



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"That will be enough of that, Lyman; we 
will excuse you on the remainder of it." 

"Now, boys, don't you think he ought to 
have let me read it all?" , 

"Why, yes, Puff; it's good." 

"Well, he didn't, and kept me after school, 
and said he would only give me half a thrash- 
ing. He may have called it a half, but I think 
he forgot himself, and forgot all about the 
credits I ought to have had. Now this, and a 
slight misunderstanding between Jake and I 
has about finished my education." 

"It's too blamed bad, Puff, but you'd better 
come back, anyhow; we all catch it once in a 
while, you know." 

"Yes, I know; but I don't want much edu- 
cation, anyhow. Danget and I have been 
planning a little trip, and I'd as soon quit now 
as any time." 

"Where ye going?" 

"Well, I don't know; Danget has two or 
three books written by a Mister Beedel, de- 
scribing some fine country out on the Piatt 
river and along the loop and lavy beds of Ne- 
braska. We think of going there." 

"Pshaw, Puff, them books are all lies. Pa 
says they are nothing but yaller back novels, 
and not one of them so." 

"Well, I don't know. Danget says they are, 
and I guess he has read about as many of 
them as any one." 

"You'll miss it, Puff, I tell ye." 
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"You boys lay low about this. We don't 
want everybody to know it." 

"You said a while ago you had visited old 
Bob Wilson; did he know it?" 

"Hold on, there ! You are insinuating now." 

"Well, I was just wondering when " 

"Yes, you are always wondering, and what 
to wonder at, I'd like to know." 

"Well, I'm a little acquainted with him, my- 
self. I was looking for Easter eggs over in 
that country, and happened near his barn, and 
he came out and says : 'What you doing out 
there?' 

" 'Looking for some boys/ 

" 'You don't happen to find many in that 
hollow stump, do you?' 

"All the time he kept coming closer and 
nearer, until I thought it about time to be 
moving, and when I started to run he cut 
loose, and if that was a sample of his foot- 
racing I wouldn't wanted to have tackled him 
in his young days. We clipped along down 
the slope towards Tom Genn's sugar camp, 
and I tell ye he gained on me every jump, but 
when we struck the hill on the other side of 
the creek, I could hear him puff like Tom 
Ross* thrashing machine. I knew then I had 
him. Pretty soon water run low; he had to 
draw his fire, steam went down, and he called 
for brakes." 

"That was a pretty close call, Puff." 

"Yes, but you know we have been in several 

[21] 



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places where we didn't have much wind to 
spare." 

"Yes, that's so; you see I know old Bob, 
myself. Pa was just talking about him this 
morning. You see Pa is assessor, and he al- 
ways has a tussle with old Bob. The other 
day he slid into Old Bob's feed lot, What's 
that bay hoss worth, Bob?' 

" 'Oh, to be honest with ye, he's good for a 
couple of hundred, I guess ; sound in wind and 
limb, stand hitched anywhere, never been 
drove to hurt him. Why, are you looking for 
a hoss?' 

" 'No, I'm assessing.' 

"'Great Caesar, is that so?' 

" 'Yes, I want to place a valuation on all 
your stock and different items subject to taxa- 
tion.' 

" 'Oh, well, that's another matter, as I just 
loud that was what ye was after. Well, that 
hoss is worth twenty dollars, I reckon/ 

" 'You will have to raise that a little, Bob, 
or the Board will call you out sure/ 

"'What Board?' 

" 'Why, the Equalizing Board, of course/ 

" 'Pshaw, I'll risk the Board. Don't you 
worry about the Board. I've lived quite a 
spell/ 

" 'I am not disputing that, but everything 
goes at full value now, and you know you 
wouldn't take that. Got any bees ?" 

[22] 



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"Dead as a mackeral." 

"Any honey in those hives?" 

"Reckon not, or they wouldn't died." 

On going out to the hives bees were flying 
in all directions. It was a warm day in Jan- 
uary. 

"Bob, do you call them dead bees?" 

"Well, Fie swan, I was out here the other 
day and nary a bee in sight. They'll die be- 
fore spring anyway. I never give in to my 
bees." 

"I'll have to list those at so much a stand, 
Bob." 

"What if they die." 

"Well, what if you die ; some one must pay 
the taxes." 

"Got any money, Bob?" 

"Nary cent." 

"Nothing. Under written evidence of 
credit?" 

"Nothing. Nope." 

"How's that mortgage on the Kingry 
place?" 

"Well, what about it?" 

"Taxable. Written evidence?" 

"What! Mortgages?" 

"Yes." 

"Who pays the taxes on the land." 

"The land, of course." 

"What, tax the land ; then tax the mortgage 
for the same land. Say, can't ye pile on some 

[23] 



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other way to get some more out of it, just as 
well. If ye can get two pulls out of it, just 
as well have three." 

"What other taxable property have you got, 
Bob?" 

"Well, I guess I'd as well let you fix it. You 
seem to know more about it than I do." 

"Any gold or silver watches?" 

"Nope." 

"Got any that's halfway between?" 

"What's that?" 

"Gold filled." 

"There ye go again." 

"Yes, what's it worth?' 

"Mabe, you know so much." 

"What is it; patent leavers?" 

"Now ye have hit it. I leaver most every 
time I'm in town. Every fellow I take it to 
says here, this watch is dirty; it needs clean- 
ing. That watch has gathered enough dirt 
since I owned it to make a good-sized south 
forty." 

"How would forty dollars catch it?" 

"It would have to do a better job of running 
than it ever did for me, if it did not catch it." 

"Well, that's about right, isn't it?" 

"Why, of course not. I got it in the first 
place with tobacco tags, and they are only 
worth half cent apiece." 

"What does that signify if you gave enough 
of them?" 

[24] 



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"It signifies this : I only had two thousand 
of them, and that was only ten dollars." 

"But the watch is a good one, and would 
sell for cash for forty dollars to-day." 

"Air ye cashing any watches to-day?" 

"No, but I have no doubt I could find you a 
buyer." 

"Well, let's postpone this assessing business 
till we find him." 

"And that's the way it went all the way 
through. Old Bob pays tax on about ten thou- 
sand, which means he has twenty. He's al- 
ways going on and talking and acting as 
though there was a pocket in a shroud, and 
the resurrection a long ways off. He says, 
though, that he has the rheumatism so bad 
these times that he can't walk until he runs 
around a little." 



NI 



CHAPTER V. 

"Hello, Puff; good morning." 

"Hello, Dangit; how air ye?" 

"All right. When do you think we'd better 
pull out, Puff." 

"Dick thinks it won't pay." 

"You ain't been talking, have ye?" 

"Oh! I just mentioned it to Dick, and Wib, 
and Lush Doughty, and a few of the boys." 

"You air a good one. How do you expect 
to slip off now? Just as well had it announced 
in church." 

"Well, if we can't slip off, we've lived here 
quite a spell. I guess we could stand it a 
while longer." 

"Why, I've got my spy-glass ; and I traded 
Wib out of that old secret-trigger pistol that 
kicked out of Will Herrils' hand and hurt his 
thumb, we are all ready to start as soon as the 
dark of the moon." 

"I haven't thot much about it lately." 

"Why?" 

"You know old Doc Cruse, of course." 

"Yes." 

"Well, he was over at Charley's last night 
making out naturalization papers for a fellow ; 

[26] 



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said he could vote in twenty-one years, if he 
kept out of the pen." 

"Shaw, I think that's a pretty slim show to 
make a citizen." 

"Well, I think Charley and Nerve had better 
let the citizen business alone, they had about 
all they could feed anyway." 

"It's all in with old Doc K. You see, he's 
coroner as well as doctor, and when he has 
doctored you until he has used up all your sur- 
plus cash and what your furniture would 
bring, he then gets a pull out of the coroner 
business. He once doctored Jake Beyney, and 
thought he had about all of Jake's wealth, and 
in making out a perscription had failed to no- 
tice that on the other side he had made out a 
list of jurors for the coroner. Jake happened 
to notice it, and concluded if the perscription 
was a forerunner to such a proceeding, he 
would not get it filled, and got well without it, 
and is to-day the father of five happy children. 
You see, Old Doc feels it his duty to follow 
a fellow along down close to the valley and 
the shadow, and charge him according to the 
length of the valley, and then step in at so 
much per diam from the county in the way of 
coroner's duties. 

"No one ever knew when they saw him driv- 
ing along the road whether the ferryboat was 
on the other side, or so many candles wanted ; 
but when a close scrutiny was made and nu- 
merous persons were seen wending that way, 

[27] 



mm tht ©am fyill 



all doubts were allayed. Blackstone reigned 
and not Dr. Chase. He once treated a fellow 
for falling off of hair. He had a strong guar- 
antee on the hair deal. The patient discov- 
ered that Doc run several kinds of business, 
and that some of them wouldn't stand the 
light, so he slid out one night leaving a line 
that he'd like to find a cure for baldness with- 
out resorting to the guillotine. 

He usually thought it his duty to either 
have his hand on a fellow's pulse or in his 
pocket, and was usually pretty well posted 
as to the state of either. 

Old Doc is a firm believer of the sulphurus 
waves licking the shores of the valley and 
gobbling up the lost in the end. Between you 
and me, I'm thinking he will ride some of them 
waves himself. I believe if he was a relative 
of mine I would gladly concede the fact. 

Now, I don't believe in setting the world 
afire. I believe in just plodding along in the 
even tenor of our ways. If not in our tenor, 
we will take the bass or some minor part, and 
not figure too much on being foreman of the 
grand jury of the next world. None of us 
need be so very particular, as we all no doubt 
have friends in both places. 

I have never aspired to great things, and 
would just as soon as not let some one else 
find the bills and turn them over to the court 
in the final roundup. 

We used to think while sitting in the back 

[28] 



CflWjat m <§>am U>tll 



of the courtroom that if we was one of that 
jury we would make it hard for that fellow, 
and now as the last jury is about to set on 
our case, we imagine we have cut our last arm- 
load of stove wood and shoveled our last hod 
of coal. 

For we read of another kind of fuel used 
in the place from 'whence no traveler returns' 
and to which my Sunday school teacher once 
told me I was rapidly galloping. 

That may be all right, Puff, but I wouldn't 
care after working hard all summer and soak- 
ing my last two months wages in a suit of 
clothes to fall into Inocuous disuitude and sink 
to the same depth obtained by M'Ginty. 



[29] 



CHAPTER VI 

"How air ye, Lush?" 

"Oh, pretty well ; feel a little sleepy, is all." 

"Up the pike last night?" 

"Oh, no." 

"Don't yarn, Lush ; seen ye going." 

"Well, what if I did? Nothing going on in 
town. What would you have a fellow do?" 

"I can remember, Lush, when you thought 
there was enough going on; that was when 
you was one of the boys. Forgot it, Lush?" 

"No, not particular; but a fellow can't al- 
ways stick to blackman and hide and ka hoop, 
from the old hay scales." 

"No, but you held your own when you was 
there." 

"Where was you last night, Dangit?" 

"I was over at the potter shop kiln." 

"What was goin' on?" 

"Well, you know Scott Shirk, who tinkers 
clocks, sometimes?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, Tom Ross came to see Scott, and 
asked him to go over to his house and look 
at his clock. 

"Scott went over and looked at it, as Tom 
said; came back and made out his bill. He 

[30] 



caiftat t&e @am $>tll 



never touched the clock and never agreed to, 
but charged for the time going. 

"When Tom came home night before last 
the clock was stopped. He came on to see 
Scott about it, and had him brought before our 
Cracker's Neck court. We tried the case that 
night at the kiln, and we got the decision. 
You know Wib is judge this term." 

"Yes, I would liked to have herd it." 

"Well, as I am secretary, it was left with 
me, so I can send it to you." 

"All right." 

Important Decision of Cracker's Neck Court. 

Whereas, it has become the duty of the in- 
cumbent of the Judicial bench in the parish of 
Cracker's Neck and State of Indiana to decide 
on the evidence as given in docket 11969, as 
shown by the records thereof, and the number 
being indisputable and that fadeth not away. 

Whereas, the said Scott Shirk, as plaintiff, 
and Tom Ross, as defendant, 

Be it now understood that the same Scott 
Shirk, a struggling mechanic of the teutonic 
art, a mender of watches, clocks, etc., and be it 
known that on a certain day he was requested 
to go and look at the calendar clock of Tom 
Ross, 

And be it known that the ancestors of which 
he is a direct descendant were at one time 
prominent, in fine arts, in fact they can be 

[31] 



QHijat tiic %am $M 



traced along the lagoon of ancient fame. We 
even find them mentioned as surmounting the 
peristile of the ancient temple of tyre, dressed 
in the habilaments of a Chicago actress, where- 
in the dress consists of a narrow ribbon around 
the loins, and that left in the check room ad- 
joining the gent's walk where the five-cent 
turnstyle stares you in the face, and we might 
here digress and say the greed of man sur- 
patheth understanding, and as I said before, 
beware of the flowing bowl and of the Crackers 
Neck docket. Now, as the calling of the said 
Scott Shirk is an honorable and exhalted one, 
and as the labor performed by him is a credit 
to his ancient ancestors, and as the bumps of 
and a reaching out after lucre is poorly devel- 
oped and is daily deteriorating, it would be- 
hoove the court to a sense of lenency. In his 
case we find evidence charging him with un- 
due desire for exorbitancy. In fact, it has been 
proven by a witness of poor but honest parents, 
that the said Scott Shirk, with malice afore- 
thought, did wilfully and malignantly, as to 
the said malice, and has been proven and that 
the funds secured through this instrumentality 
was in keeping with prices obtained through a 
person with the blood of his ancestors flowing 
through his veins, for the "laborer is worthy 
of his hire," and this is undisputable among 
workman of this class. 

Now, as to the points at issue, of which I 
have exhaustingly enlarged upon, and as the 

[32] 



mm m %am $m 



character of the aforesaid has been proven 
that he is in no wise related to that ancient 
animal, the steak and spare ribs of which we 
take to with relish regardless of the fact that 
the ancestors of which these are direct descen- 
dants, and at one time were said to be possess- 
ed of the devil, and we should here take heed 
and resolve to profit by the teaching of the 
docket 1 1969 and of those brought out in the 
evidence, and when the time comes that we 
shall sit where he now sits in the culprit's 
chair, with the countenance of a Prendegast 
and the daring of a Jack Shepherd; that you 
can say verily this, a righteous judge and his 
court beams on you and of a modern expres- 
sion which slops over with benevolence and 
lenency. The punishment of this court is that 
the said Scott Shirk be debarred from all work 
of whatsoever kind, and borrowing of his 
neighbors without security, that he be re- 
quired to get up at six o'clock in the morning 
and sit in the shade while his brothers saw 
wood for the day, he shall appear daily in his 
usual haunts without being recognized as a 
member of the National Federation of Labor, 
he shall however be recognized as should a 
person with so illustrious a pedigree, and 
should his walks of life be such this embryalgo 
may be in time lifted from him. 

As for Mr. Ross, we have only praise for 
one in spite of the combined oratory of the 
attorneys of the other side he has manfully 

[33] 



mm tbt «&am mu 



plead his own case. We would however beg 
to be relieved from appearing in testimony as 
to his truth and varasity. His rebuttal (where- 
in he states not being able to know the day 
of the month from the lack of Mr. Shirk in 
performing his work in conformity with his 
training), we will look over from the fact that 
the constable is supposed to date all papers 
before leaving this office. I don't wish to in- 
sinuate. He no doubt feels hurt at the treat- 
ment received at the hands of the tutonic gen- 
tleman, and will feel inclined to stand on the 
street corner like the person of old and herald 
to the world these facts which have been prov- 
en and the ignomineous punishment which 
quickly followed the culprit. 

We find by looking over the by-laws of the 
ancient tyronic metal workers that they mere- 
ly charged for going to see the work, instead 
of for the work done ; however, as I made this 
discovery after the decision was made, it is too 
late to be of benefit to the culprit. 

As a higher court will convene here in a few 
minutes I would suggest, as some of your 
shortcomings are known, that a speedy exit 
through the rear door would be advisable. 

The janitor will please clear the rear exit as 
speedily as possible. 

"Pretty good; that sounds"ajvhole\lot like 
Wib." 



[34]| 



ffilimt tfte ©am i^ill 



"Yes, the boys made it pretty hot for Tom, 

but he plead his own case and did very well." 

"How often does the Crackers Neck meet?" 

"Oh, no regular time ; mearly when we have 

a case before it." 



[35] 



CHAPTER VII 

Years after. 

Puff went back to school, got into a fight 
with a Jew, and in accordance with the fitness 
of things came out victorious. 

This race of people have been in statu quo 
for twenty centuries on account of having 
killed a prominent man without a trial, and 
aside from Puff having one eye disabled, and 
his nose crooked in an oblique manner, his 
wrist put out of place, and his hip knocked 
down, and a few minor scratches, he escaped 
unharmed. However, old Wess saw that he 
was expeled. He worked around awhile at 
what ever he could get to do, but did not seem 
to gather much moss. 

Dangett worked in a brick yard and spent 
most of his money in dime novels and got the 
western fever worse than in his boyhood days. 

Wib went northwest and worked in a maple 
sugar camp awhile, finally drifted to Chicago, 
and lived in a Sweedish boarding-house, 
learned to talk the language after a fashion, 
got mixed up in a strike in which foreigners 
predominated, came near getting knocked on 
the head, after the strike was informed that 
his services were no longer needed, drifted 

[36] 



mm m ©am ^ni 



from one thing to another, got homesick, 
pawned the first watch he ever owned for half 
what it was worth, and turned homeward, 
where he arrived in time to see his old and 
particular friend on his deathbed. 

Six boys carried him to his last resting place 
out near the old brick school-house, where he 
rests free from the cares of life. Where are 
they all this night, fifty years after? 

This cast a gloom over the old set. The 
old loafing corner was never the same again. 
The old set drifted apart. Some moved away, 
some married, others died. 

And long years passed by. Those who were 
rich in their youth became poor, and the poor 
became rich. Old ties were broken. 

The remnant of the old set gather to-night 
around the fire at the old crockery kiln back 
of the old potter shop. They are now bearded 
men of two score and ten, some of them more. 
Quiet prevails. They sit and look into the fire 
with a sad, wistful look. 

"Lyman (Puff of the old boyhood days)," 
says Tom, "I of all the old set I would rather 
see Wib than any one in this world." 

"Yes, so would I." 

"Who's Wib?" 

"Oh, you never knew him; he used to live 
here; left forty years ago, long before you 
were born." 

And Tom, his place was never filled. 

You are right, Tom, it took a good one to 

[37] 



TOat ti)c ©am I^iU 



hold him off on "town ball," "bull pen," "old 
cat," "blackman," foot race or swim. 

"Yes, we did not think we would ever be 
seperated, but see how few of us are left." 

"I don't recon he will ever come back here 
again." 

"No, I have not heard from him for years." 

"I got a small package from him years ago 
from old Mexico; he was then away back in 
the wilds of Mexico, among the cliff dwell- 
ings, and wrote me he intended going still far- 
ther back in the wilds. We will never see him 
again, boys, and besides, he is now, like us, 
getting old. Do you suppose he is any happier 
than if he had stayed with us?" 

"Listen! Some one is coming." 

"How do you do, gentlemen?" 

"Good evening, sir. Won't you come by the 
fire? We have plenty of room to-night; but 
we have seen the time when you would have 
found it hard to get a place around this fire." 

"Thanks, yes; I was just passing through 
your town and stopped over night. Saw a 
light here, and came over." 

"You don't live close here?" 

"No, I live in the far West." 

"Well, you see here around this fire all that 
is left of a club of boys that have sat here at 
every burning of this kiln for forty years." 

The stranger stood a little in the shadow 
and looked long and silent into the fire, and 
finally says, "Is it possible?" 

[38] 



mm tfte ^am grill 



"Yes, sir, we once numbered ten or twelve 
careless boys with no thought of the morrow, 
and, sir, we would give more this night to see 
the old set here around this fire than to see 
a whole line of presidents. But they are scat- 
tered to the four winds. The meeting will 
never be. You say you are from the West; 
you no doubt have traveled much?" 

"Yes, indeed, here and there and almost 
everywhere. I have been from under the flag on 
the south and on the north. In my youth I 
suppose I made one of such a club as you 
describe." 

"Here, take this box. I'd just as soon stand 
up as not." 

"Oh, no; keep your seat." 

We who have always lived here, it is true 
have read much and saw pictures of that coun- 
try, but we would like to hear some of your 
experience of your travels over it." 

"You say you have always lived here? Don't 
you know you should be the happiest men liv- 
ing? You have stayed because you were con- 
tented; and what is money compared with 
contentment with our lot? You may have 
missed seeing many grand things, but you are 
here; have always been here, and now there is 
no place like this. Wherever a man lives is 
his allotted place. It is home, no matter where 
he goes he in time drifts back to it." 

"We are not particularly grumbling; we are 
aware we have had our day." 

[39] 



mm the §am J^ill 



"As it is early in the evening, I will give you 
an outline of one that was not satisfied with 
his lot. I will begin by saying in my boyhood 
I was a reader of many sensational novels. I 
can now see it was a waste of time, but what I 
got from them caused me to think it the thing 
to pull out from home. My parents were poor 
and not particularly in need of me at home. 
So at rather an early age I severed the home 
tie and pulled out for the West. I landed in 
a Western town along in the afternoon, went 
to a hotel to stay over night. This was not 
like some of the large hotels you read about, 
where a boy starts after a glass of water, and 
is old and gray-headed when he gets back, but 
one of modest dimentions. I registered with a 
flourish ; told the landlord I was hunting work. 

" 'Yes, that's all right ; I've seen fellows 
hunting work before. Have you any baggage? 
For if you have not you will have to pay in 
advance/ 

" 'Yes, I've a trunk at the depot/ 

" 'Here, Jake/ 

"'Well, what ?' 

" 'You go down to the depot that has a 
saloon in the basement with a sign at the head 
of the stairs, 

" ' "NOSE PAINT FOR SALE HERE" 

and get the trunk this check calls for/ 
" 'All right/ 

[40] 



C&ftat tfte ^am ft>ill 



"And from the color of Jake's nose I thought 
he had been there after baggage before. 

"Well, he brought the trunk, placed it in 
the room, turned the key over to me, and I was 
the owner pro tern of my first room. I saun- 
tered down into the barroom just as two fel- 
lows met. One says, 'Hello, Bill ; where been 
fur a week back?' 

" 'I haven't got any weak back. What are 
you talking about?' 

"They stormed around in strong conversa- 
tion relative to their general character, per- 
sonal appearance, the style of their ancestors, 
and probable destination when done with this 
world. It was about as vivid a word picture, 
and as plain language as I had heard in many 
a day. I thot it would end in a knockdown, 
but found it was mearly a mild western way 
of greeting. 

" 'Going to the torch light?' 

" 'Yes, you bet.' 

" 'All right ; let's go out and see how things 
look.' 

"This informed me that there was a torch 
light in town that night, as the campaign was 
in full blast. Well, I went out on the street, 
and being a little chilly, I asked a street vender 
for a hot lemonade, and the deliberate way he 
went at it made me think he imagined he was 
boiling his mother-in-law. He must have been 
a good one, sure. Yes, I was not used to his 

Ui] 



tfljjmt tfte ^am J^ill 



style, but remembered I was in a strange coun- 
try, and said nothing. 

"The torchlight was grand, the music fine, 
and I enjoyed it. One fellow of the opposite 
party got hilarious over his favorite candidate, 
and in the absence of a man with a trumpet to 
herald it to the world, did the herald act him- 
self, and got promptly knocked down and a 
lamp stick stuck in his rib. I thought if that 
was a sample of the way they did, I would 
keep my politics to myself. 

"I came back to my room in good time, but 
found some one had been there before me. My 
trunk was open, my best suit of clothes gone, 
and various other things. He had left an in- 
ferior pair of pants in their place. 

"This floored me completely. I went back 
to the barroom. 

" 'Say, landlord, you was a little particular 
about me bringing my trunk here, wasn't you?' 

" 'Yes, sir, it is our rule.' 

" 'Well, if you had been as particular about 
taking care of it, I would have liked it better.' 

'"Why, what's wrong?' 

" 'Oh, nothing, only some one has gone 
through it and about cleaned me out of 
clothes.' 

" 'You don't say so.' 

" 'Yes, I do ; come up to my room/ 

" 'Well, don't that beat Bob.' 

" 'I don't know, but I know it beats me out 

[42] 



(DQimt t&e %am $iU 



of a suit of clothes, and, landlord, I am not 
feeling very good over it/ 

" 'I expect not ; we must look into this at 
once/ 

" 'You need not lose any time getting started 
on my account/ 

"We got track of a fellow and followed him 
from one saloon to another, but when we 
found him about to board a midnight train 
with a big grip we stopped him, and had him 
open it. This he did willingly, but he had 
nothing of mine. I explained it to him. He 
says all right, he did not want to leave town 
under suspicion. I did not find them that 
night, and have never found them to this day." 

"I would call that hard luck to start on." 

"Yes, but I got work soon, and got along 
all right, and stayed there a number of years. 

"One day in looking over a scrap of news- 
paper, I noticed a glowing account of the 
great strikes in the silver mines of Leadville. 
Also a description of the trip over the great 
Union Pacific route from Omaha. The beau- 
tiful mountain scenery and Concord coach and 
I don't know what all. This awakened my 
restless spirit again, and the desire to see the 
West again was strong. I decided to go. 
Quickly making preparations, I started with 
but little money. On reaching Omaha all was 
confusion and rush. There was not baggage- 
cars enough to carry the baggage. We had to 

[43] 



mm m %&m ^ai 



go on and leave it to follow. Crossing the 
plains reminded me of something I had often 
read about, and was now being realized. The 
ever-changing landscape was of great interest 
to us all. Droves of antelope, an occasional 
coyote, prairie dog towns, miles in length, 
where thousands of little fat fellows were 
sitting upright looking at the train go by, just 
as they looked at the covered wagon go by 
years before on the Pike's Peak and California 
trail. We reached Cheyenne, Wyoming. 
What boy has not read at least one novel 
where Cheyenne is mentioned? This, beyond 
North Platte, where the two Platte rivers 
come together and a Western story with the 
Platte River left out would be a tame affair, 
indeed. At Cheyenne we rest for two hours, 
when we change cars for Denver. This mod- 
ern city, away beyond the line of civilization, 
is still a city in every particular. Hotels of 
every kind, with plenty of sharks to catch 
the unwary tenderfoot. 

"Here we stop one day before taking the 
narrow guage railway for the mountains. We 
start the next morning after sizing up the 
small pony engine at the head of the train 
and wondering how it will ever pull us up the 
mountain. No pen or description can do 
justice to the grandeur displayed while passing 
through the Platte Canyon. Mile after mile 
of rock so high that you can hardly see the 
top; great boulders that look just ready to 

[44] 



mm m @am ^w 



leave their bed of centuries and roll down 
to our destruction ; jets of rock that reach 
out almost to the car windows, while the 
Platte River that runs so sluggish across the 
plains here goes roaring and plunging over 
numerous boulders with terrible speed. It 
looked as though nothing could keep us from 
pitching from the track as we rounded the 
sharp curves. 

"We are enjoying the magnificent scenery 
when we slowly pull into a small mountain 
station. 

" 'Webster !' shouts a train man. 'Change 
here for Concord coach !' 

"We all scramble out. Here is pande- 
monium personified. Great trains of freight 
wagons, three coupled together and pulled by 
sixteen mules, driven by what was intended 
in the start to be one man, but by the way he 
cussed and tore around and whipped those 
mules you would have thought there was a 
dozen. 

"We look around and wonder if that old 
rickety vehicle is a Concord coach, and if it is 
going to Leadville, and are highly enlightened 
when we ask some fellow and he tells you 'Go 
to / 

"We call on the baggageman and present 
our checks to have our baggage rechecked to 
Leadville, as the party who run the great 
Union Pacific ticket office told us 'Oh, yes, 
check you right through to Leadville.' 

[45] 



mm tfte ©am l^ill 



"He tells us it has not arrived yet, and 
when it does it will not be checked to Lead- 
ville. He also tells us it will be forwarded 
for five dollars per hundred. We now wish 
we had not crowded in enough to just clear 
the one hundred and fifty pounds they told 
us they would allow us. We remonstrated 
at this, but are shut off in language that satis- 
fies us that the man, although away back in 
the dim past may have been a Sunday school 
scholar, he had long since forgotten it. We 
are informed that checks don't go over a 
mountain toll road where it costs twenty cents 
a mile to travel in a coach. 

"All things have an end, and so did our 
jangling; it ended by us retreating and leaving 
him a clear field, thoroughly satisfied in our 
minds if he did not get his just dues in this 
world he would in the next; we got our coach 
tickets booked, gather up our grips ready to 
board the first coach that pulls up, and are 
finally off after praising its beauty and prob- 
able comfort, as it is to be our house for 
the next two days and nights. There was 
three coach-loads of us. Nine passengers to 
the coach, and a more motley crew you could 
not imagine. Many of them had left other 
places by request, others had left without 
settling their bill, some few, like myself, were 
going to try and better their condition, but 
the most of them were going simply to get 
away from somewhere. 



t&jmt t&e %>am r^ill 



"There was one tall, meek-looking fellow 
that we sized up as a preacher, he seemed 
so quiet and meek, but the old saying that 
'still water runs deep' was personified in his 
case. He was one kind of man in day time, 
and another after night. 

"I think I never saw his match. While 
traveling up the mountains we came across 
a freight wagon off the track, as they called 
it, and as there was no other road we had to 
wait for it to get the road clear. You see, 
the lower side of the road, as it winds around 
the mountains, is built up with flat stones 
to hold the grade. This freighter's rear wagon 
had slewed around a little, and the rear wheel 
had dropped over the wall. This completely 
stalled the whole outfit, and the accident hap- 
pened on such a sharp curve that the entire 
sixteen mules could not pull at it. The leaders 
would, in straightening out the chain, pull 
the middle teams over against the bank on 
the upper side of the road. Some of our 
crowd got out to help clear the wreck, and 
one fellow that knew it all, back in Virginia, 
undertook to tell the teamster how to drive. 
The quiet man stepped up to stop him from 
interfering, but was too late. The teamster 
looked at him a moment, then the sulphureous 
waves began to roll up, and came crashing 
along, and the under toe completely swept him 
off his feet. He floundered in the depths 
but a moment, then figuratively disappeared 

[47] 



tfllfcat the &am fyill 



from sight. I think I have heard swearing 
in all of its purity and clearness, but never 
heard a man get such a raking fore and aft. 

"In time we all got out, and as the night 
was chilly and snow was falling, we made up 
a log heap and set fire to it and stayed there 
until near midnight. Around this fire is where 
our quiet friend came out in his true colors, 
and by the time the freight team got out of 
the way he had most of the money in the 
crowd. I myself fought shy of him, as I 
did not like his looks. 

"At midnight we loaded into the coaches 
and pulled out for Fairplay, which we reached 
some time in the night. 

"Promptly at eight o'clock the next morning 
the coaches were ready to start with fresh 
teams. Wall and Whittier did not let any 
grass grow on a toll road. They were the 
Ben Halidays of the mountains of that date. 

"We got along on the second day singing 
songs and enjoying ourselves as well as we 
could in our cramped quarters, when : 

" 'Here, you fellows will have to walk up 
this hill/ 

"Here was a go. Twenty cents a mile and 
walk. We all pile out to walk up this hill, 
which proves to be eight miles long, and al- 
most as steep as a house roof. We could out- 
travel the coaches, and at the first station 
where they changed teams we went on ahead 
and did not see them for half a day. 

[48] 



ftaimt tfte ^am ^ill 



"The road was more rough and steep as we 
neared the top of the pass, and the snow 
more heavy. The wind blew a hurricane. We 
were so far ahead of the coach we feared 
had broken down and we would be elected to 
spend the night in the mountains. We set 
down behind a tree with our backs to the 
storm and the snow came trinkling down our 
backs. The flaming Union Pacific poster 
came before our eyes describing the beautiful 
Concord coach and the magnificent mountain 
scenery on this glorious trip to Leadville. 

"We decide to wait near the summit for the 
coach to come up. When it came up, it proved 
to be a common lumber wagon, with all our 
grips piled primiscuous over the bottom of the 
bed. We all pile in, when: 'Hell ! here, you, 
git off my valice ; yiu'v busted it/ We all look, 
and sure enough and there protruding through, 
the aperture is the leg of the old family rooster 
who has crowed for the last time and is now* 
accompanying his master on this glorious trip 
to Leadville. 

"As we cross the summit the high air affect- 
ed one fellow so that over he went. We were 
all frightened at this, but there was nothing to 
it but lay him in on the pile of grips and trust 
to his coming to when we got lower down the 
mountain. The driver told us it was nothing 
uncommon. Just then another fellow says: 
'Boys, I'm as sick as a horse/ 

" 'York/ says another fellow, as he leans 

[49] 



mm tbt %>am tyill 



over the side of the wagon and wonders at the 
tenacity of his boots in staying in place, 'it 
took the cake for all the glorious trips I ever 
experienced, and really now I would not have 
called it that if the U. P. poster had not filled 
us up so with the glorious part of it/ 

"After getting several thousand feet lower 
down our sick man revived just as the driver 
told us he would. We shake the snow off our 
backs and begin again to enjoy life. 

"At a station down toward the park we 
again find a coach and roll along in fine shape. 
At ten o'clock at night the second night out 
we pull into Leadville, a city that at that date 
could well be called one of the wonders of the 
world. 

"Here was man from every corner of the 
earth, thousands of them. Many of them 
landed without a dollar. No blankets, nowhere 
to sleep, every lodging house crowded to its 
utmost. Bunk houses, where the bunks were 
but little over one foot apart, and one above 
another, clear to the top. Greek and Moslem, 
Jew and Gentile, Yankee from the Nutmeg 
country to cross swords with the mine-salter 
of the West. A conglomeration of human be- 
ings never before equaled and never will be 
again. There was said to be sixty thousand 
men on the streets of Leadville and probably 
three hundred women, and in all of this mass 
not a single family in the city. Tongue nor 
pen can never describe it ; possession was nine 

[50] 



Mbat the %am tyill 



points of law, and violation caused pistol prac- 
tice that would beat our old-time Christmas 
carnivals." 

"Well, stranger, that was certainly an inter- 
esting time, or trip." 

"Yes, and it makes me want to get out there, 
as old as I am. You know I always wanted to 
go, Lime?" 

"Yes, and I have often wondered why you 
didn't." 

"I never had that much money at one time." 

"You are just as well off, my friend." 

"Yes, a fellow hates to think of always liv- 
ing in some hole of a place, and in the end 
finish up by stepping from one hole into an- 
other." 

"Stranger, you have interested us very 
much, but it is not late, and we would like to 
know something of the customs of the coun- 
try; how are claims obtained? What is the 
title? We read of jumping claims. How can 
one man take another's claim? Does not the 
government protect the title?" 

"The customs of the country are based some- 
what on law and some on local arrangement. 
For instance, a mining camp or district taking 
in a certain bounded territory will arrange in 
that district to stand by certain rules adopted 
at a meeting of all claim-holders in that dis- 
trict. All grievances are brought before a cer- 
tain committee. An appeal can be taken to the 
courts of the State, or United States, but an 

[Si] 



C&ftat t?)e @am tyill 



agreement entered into at the time of organiz- 
ing is that they will abide by certain rules. 
The government requires you to set stakes at 
the corners of your claim and also a location 
stake on which you state your claim so many 
feet each way from this stake. The different 
counties regulate the sizes of claims in that 
county. The government requires you to do 
at least $100 worth of work each year, called 
assessment work, and file with the county re- 
corder a sworn statement that such work has 
been done. The local district organization re- 
quirements may be that you must find mineral 
before locating or recording your claim. This 
shows why some jump claims. They say you 
have no mineral. I will also prospect here, 
and if I find mineral first, I claim the right to 
run my claim in any direction I choose. 

"That is what causes trouble. The party 
finding mineral first usually surveys in all the 
adjoining shafts he can." 

"I can now see where the trouble comes in. 
When a man has worked hard all season he 
does not like to have his work appropriated by 
another." 

"That is the idea, exactly. Now as to find- 
ing or starting a new district and the hard- 
ships encountered I will give you a description 
of a trip I was in which will give you an idea 
of that part of it. There was a party of three 
of us started from Leadville to go a distance 
of eighteen miles over a low pass in the moun- 

[52] 



KJftat tije ^am $ill 



tains to locate some property. The crust on 
the snow, which was very deep, would still 
hold the weight of a man, but it was getting 
late in the winter and the crust was liable to 
break through before long. We provided 
against this by taking some boards ten inches 
wide by four feet long to strap on our feet in 
case it did break through. As we expected to 
get up to the place and get through and back 
to the trail the same day, we did not take 
much grub along. 

"We got near the place the first day and 
went into camp, and started early the next 
morning up the mountains. We got along 
fine. The place we wanted to get to was one 
and a quarter miles from the trail. Keep that 
part in your mind. We got there, staked out 
our claims and started back. The sun, in the 
meantime, had come out quite warm and I 
hurried the other fellows to get back to the 
trail. 

"This trip was made after I had spent one 
season in the mountains, while the other fel- 
lows were tenderfeet. We had not gone far 
down the mountain before the crust began to 
break through. We would sink into the snow 
over our heads, flounder awhile and get up on 
top again. The crust would again break, our 
shoes would turn over on edge, and in all kinds 
of shapes, while into the deep snow we would 
go again. You who have almost gave out 
wading in snow hip deep can have a little idea 

[53] 



mm m ©am ^ni 



of the way it would be over your head — you 
simply can't make headway. The snow soon 
became very wet and we were soon wet to the 
skin. We would button our overcoats tight 
up around us, roll our blankets (something you 
dare not leave behind, as the nights are cold), 
around us and try to roll down the mountain. 
This would do for a short distance but in time 
we gradually sank beneath the surface again. 
I soon saw we were in a dangerous predica- 
ment. The others did not realize the danger, 
not being used to the country. We worried 
along until noon, then stopped for dinner. The 
others were for eating everything to avoid 
carrying it, but this I would not allow, as I 
knew we were elected for a night in the moun- 
tains. After dinner we started again, working 
with indifferent success. Night came on. We 
took our snow shoes and shoveled away until 
we reached the ground. Here we made a fire. 
Our matches we carried in waterproof boxes. 
We made our coffee and eat our last bite of 
grub. We then set some forks in the snow at the 
edge of our dugout, laid a pole across and 
broke pine boughs off the trees nearby, and 
made a bed, we also covered the roof of the 
dugout with them. This made quite a snug 
little shanty. As dead brush was plenty we 
provided quite a supply of it for the fire. Then 
pulled the roof covering in place over our 
heads and prepared to spend the night. The 
other two were inclined to make light of it, 

[54] 



fta&at tfje &am JDill 



but I knew we were in a tight place. Along 
some time before spreading our blankets on 
the pine boughs, one of the boys had thrown 
a piece of ham bone on the fire. This burnt 
and sputtered quite awhile, and made quite a 
smoke, but it worked out through the roof and 
did not bother us. 

"It commenced to snow very hard in the 
night, as it often does in that latitude in March 
and April. A light fluffy snow. We had laid 
down in our wet clothes and wet blankets, all 
snug up together, and got up quite a steam 
from the heat of our bodies, and once in a 
while some fellow would snore a few whiffs, 
but not long at a time, as our uncomfortable 
position would soon wake him up. 

"Along some time in the night, we supposed 
from the smell of the burnt bone, a mountain 
lion had scented it, and came along to find it, 
and came right up to the brink of our dugout, 
and I suppose smelling us, raised the worst 
howl or screech I ever heard. The tenderfoot 
sleeping in the middle jumped to an upright 
position at one jump and hollered : 'What the 
hell's that !' struck his head against the ridge 
pole, knocked it out of the fork and down came 
our roof with six inches of snow right among 
our blankets. This was grand in the extreme, 
and no one seemed at a loss for language to ex- 
press himself, in fact the time seemed ripe for 
all hands to express themselves without leave 
from the chair. Roberts' Rules of Order were 

[55] 



taibat the ^am ^ili 



shelved for a time, and bedlam but a short 
ways off. It would be hard to say which was 
frightened the worst, the lion or the tender- 
foot. The lion made off at a lively rate. 

"This ended the sleeping for that night. It 
took quite a while to quiet the fellow and con- 
vince him that we were in no particular danger 
from the lion." 

" 'Well, you get us out of this scrape and 
you can have all the claims. I, myself, am out 
of it. 

"We sat down and hugged our knees until 
morning and a more dilapidated set you never 
saw. 

"We started out without any breakfast, and 
I was sure we would not get any dinner, as we 
were still three-fourths of a mile from the trail. 
We rolled and pitched and tried all kinds of 
ways, but made but slow progress. Noon came 
and no dinner. I, myself, was getting very 
weak. Now near two days in the wet snow 
and but little to eat in that time. I could 
hardly stand on my snow shoes when I got 
them placed on top of the snow. Along about 
two o'clock in the afternoon one of the tender- 
feet rolled over in the snow and says : 'Here 
you fellows, just go; I'm all in; plum played. 
I'll never move another peg, it's no use, boys ; 
Fve been watching, Wib, and I tell ye we can 
never make it, and I won't try any more/ 

"This was serious indeed, as I knew to leave 
him meant death. We were all about played 

[56] 



SOftat m §am U)M 



as far as that was concerned, but I knew we 
must reach the trail that night or we would 
never reach it. I pictured to him that there 
was a shanty about a mile down the trail from 
where we would strike it, and if we only could 
make it we would get plenty to eat and a place 
to sleep. We worked and reasoned with him 
for a long time, and after loosing a lot of valu- 
able time he got up and started. We were in 
plain sight of the trail and must reach it. 
Night came on and with it a snow storm. We 
still were several rods from the trail. The 
tenderfeet were in for going into camp, but I 
knew better than to try to stem another night 
in our weak state, so urged them to renewed 
exertion, telling them we were so close to the 
trail and safety that we must reach it, and 
reach it we did, and when my feet struck the 
solid trail it seemed to me I could win a foot 
race with any one. 

"We rolled up our blankets. I took the lead, 
calling for them to follow, as I knew the trail. 
We pulled into the shanty about midnight, the 
third night out. The miners got up and made 
us some strong tea. I was setting on the side 
of the bunk at the time, and that was the last 
I knew until some time the next morning; he 
said I drank a tin cup of hot tea and dropped 
over backwards on the bunk, and was sound 
asleep and never moved the whole night. He 
stayed up the remainder of the night to keep 
up a hot fire as we were still in our wet 

[57] 



mw tfte §>am tyiU 



clothes. The dinner they gave us has never 
been equaled by Delmonico. It put life into us 
and soon after we pulled out for Leadville. 

"One of the fellows stayed around our 
shanty a few days, but came in one morning 
and said: 'Good-bye, boys, I've got enough of 
this. The stage starts in half an hour/ and in 
spite of all we could say he bid us good-bye. 
As he wrung my hand he says, 'Wib, I'll tell 
the folks that it was you that saved my life on 
that awful trip. I'm not built for this country, 
farewell/ and that was the last time I ever saw 
him. He went back into the States, took down 
with rheumatism, and the last I heard of him 
he was a physical wreck. 

"The other fellow stayed around the most 
of the summer, but I could never get him to 
go near the claims, and in the fall he disap- 
peared, and that is the last I ever saw of him. 
The claims proved worthless and so ended the 
most perilous trip of my life." 

"Um, hum'. Lime, what do ye think of 
that? Want any mountains in yours?" 

"Not by a long chalk, but I would not have 
missed hearing about it for any thing. We are 
certainly obliged to you, stranger, for your 
story." 

During this time, Tom (the Danget of boy- 
hood days), is eyeing the stranger. Several 
times during the recital the tone of his voice, 
some particular motion or twist called up old 
memories. A slight scar across the forehead, 

[58] 



mm tfte ^am $fll 



another across the first fingers of the right 
hand was quite plain, and the conviction somes 
crowding on him all at once. This is your old 
chum, Wib. 

"Boys, the story is ended. I couldn't stay 
away any longer. I am Wib." 

"Great Caesar, don't that beat you." 

"It's no use talking I ought to have known 
you sooner, but forty years is a long time, and 
you are changed. Well, I should say so. But 
an old-time whoop, I've no doubt will bridge 
the chasm and bring you back to us again." 

"Come over to the store and see if any of 
the men will know you, Tom. This is the best 
night I ever saw. Gee, how I wish all the old 
set was here to-night." 

"That's what's the matter." 

"Over at the store. Forty years to span. 
Who is here? Who has fallen by the wayside? 
When the roll is called who will answer?" 

Lime is spokesman. 

"Gentlemen, what do you think we have 
found to-night over at the old potter shop kiln. 
One who bade us good-bye forty years ago. 
He steps into his old corner and entertains us 
for hours with his travels, but by watching 
close and listening to his voice or seeing some 
particular move or tone we figure him out. 
This, gentlemen, is our old-time Wib, after 
forty years wanderings returns to us." 

"What's that you are saying, Lime? Wib. 
lYou can't fool me on Wib. I was along when 

[59] 



(KJftat m @am fyill 



he was accidentally struck with a rock on the 
forehead. I would know that scar any 
where." 

"Yes, and I was there when he got the two 
first fingers of his right hand sawed on Tom 
Genn's lathe saw." 

"All right, here is your scars, and let me tell 
you who you are : Your are John Duket, you 
Dave Genn, Bill Willson. How are you Henry 
Harvey, glad to see you. Scott Pettygrew, you 
are the same old Scott, and this is John Webb. 
Tom Trusler, are you still with Jake Masters? 
Tom Powers, when I get a good look into them 
eyes, I knew you. Is that you Kinard? Glad 
to see you. Dave, if there was a sap suck out 
here on that locust tree I would show him to 
you." 



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